


The Start of Something

by Lionsmane



Series: Love between Warriors [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Elf mind control, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, naked sword fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane/pseuds/Lionsmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins as Fluffy smut, but still true to character.<br/>Please enjoy, and feel free to comment.</p><p>Do be warned that it departs from being fluffy by chapter 5, and becomes more serious.<br/>And be warned of non-consentual sex in chapter 6.</p><p>This is Part 1 of the Love Between Warriors series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The female attention he is hoping for

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter just sets the scene.

He sits with his back against what remains of the Master’s boathouse, one knee bent upwards supporting a piece of wood he is whittling into a new arrow shaft. He works with rapt concentration, his clear brown eyes wide, occasionally bringing the shaft up to peer down the length of it to check that it is straight. His other leg is extended, a cloth bandage wrapped around his lower thigh where an orc arrow had pierced him only a few days ago.

It is cold. The water of the Lake only a few feet from where Kili sits has large chunks of ice floating in it. His breath comes out in visible white puffs as he works. The sun is still high, though, and he prefers it here in the fresh air than in Bard’s cramped house, where the two young girls, Sigrid and Tilda, do not seem to be able to move past him or glance in his direction without blushing or giggling.

It is not exactly the female attention he is hoping for.

He wonders ruefully to himself if his own interest in Tauriel is just as far-fetched. He hopes his behavior at least has been a little more subtle.

He thinks of her again now, (in fact little else has occupied his mind of late) and remembers the intensity of her grey eyes as she had laid her hands on him the other night. The pain of that arrow wound had not been like any other pain he had ever felt. It had been more like a violation, an invasion of a million icy blades that threatened not only his body but his soul. But her light…he could not remember anything about the rest of the room around him, not even his brother Fili’s worried expression and the arms that supported him, but he could remember Tauriel’s light. It shone from her, bright and warm without burning his vision and at its center were her eyes, and her lovely mouth speaking soft words that he could not understand but that seemed to wrap around and through him and that drove away the horrible invasion inside him.

“How is your leg today?”

Kili is startled to see Tauriel there, and tries not to stare as her lithe body kneels down into a sitting position beside him, one long booted leg folding fluidly beneath the other as her shock of red silken hair ripples over her right shoulder at him, sending him a faint scent of something like oak-aged mead.

“Fine… I think.”

She is opening a leather satchel she has carried over, and nodding at him, “It is time I took a look at your wound to be sure it is healing properly, if that is all right with you?”

“Of course,” Kili stammers.

He is grateful that Tauriel’s attention is on his leg and not his face, which he is sure is betraying him. She has undone the bandage and is gently probing the skin of his thigh around the wound, which is still healing, but is no longer radiating the ominous blue lines it had been the night Kili had almost died. Her hands are warm and gentle and his eyes close with longing for her to continue these healing ministrations forever.

“It looks much better,” she says, re-bandaging the wound and smiling at him. He thinks he sees a flutter in her expression, and decides to act, taking her hand.

“Tauriel,” she looks at him now, slight anxiety in her eyes, but something else, too. Something smoldering and veiled. Seated together like this cancels their height difference, and they regard each other with their eyes level. “You saved my life that night, and I am very grateful.” He smiles just slightly, and bows his head over her hand, pressing his lips to the tops of her fingers. Now it is Tauriel’s turn to close her eyes, as she takes in the warm firmness of Kili’s mouth on her hand.

He lifts his head again to find her face close to his. Thousands of things pass between them, thousands of days of life between her years and his, without either of them ever having felt their hearts really touched until now. So much time, and yet they both sense urgency.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

He slowly pulls her closer, his hand at her waist. She stiffens only slightly but yields to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Their foreheads touch. Kili whispers,

“You travelled far out of your way for me. You did not have to, and you did not have to stay here after the dragon was slain…”

She smiles, “No, I did not.”

His hand slides under her hair to the back of her neck, guiding her head into a tilt as their lips meet. Tauriel’s mouth is warm and sweet, and he is intoxicated by the scent and feel of her as they delve into each other. He is also amazed to feel her tremble slightly; but he relates, as he feels his own breath catching and gasping. They are both warriors who are confident and who move fluidly in battle, but this is new to them.

Her hands are digging into the muscles of his shoulders and back, and all Kili can think of is how much more of him he would like her to touch, as he draws her body into his lap, leg wound be damned. He traces a passionate circle with his tongue on her neck and she moans softly.

“Vaen Kvinn,” Kili says huskily, bringing her face to his again and cupping it tenderly with his hands.

They are in a fairly secluded corner of the docks, but it is still broad daylight and they become aware that any further developments of their current interactions will require more privacy. As Kili’s hands caress the curves of her body, it is Tauriel who notices the boat residing in the boat house behind them. It is a small boat with oars, but fitted out for the now dead Master of Laketown, with a covered section and even some velvet cushions on board.

“Do you fancy a boat ride?” breathes Tauriel.

Kili’s smile at this sends tingles into places in Tauriel’s body that she had forgotten she possessed.


	2. A Gap in Their Education

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interracial sex on the beach. Enjoy.

They build a fire on the shore of Long Lake where they can see the lights of Lake Town in the distance. The sun is beginning to set and it is cold, but Kili and Tauriel do not feel the chill as they pull at the fastenings of each other’s clothing.

“mmm,” breathes Kili, busying his mouth in her neck as he unlaces her outer doublet only to encounter two more layers beneath it, “you elves wear too many clothes…”

She is shyer than he’d expected. He’d thought surely he would be the more innocent. She is immortal, and he knows that she is much older than he. But he can sense her hesitating to touch him, and sees the blush on her cheek in the firelight.

Intimacy is not an area of Kili’s education that his mother or his uncle had addressed at any length. Combat skills with axe, bow and swords, yes. How to woo and bed a woman, no. There were very few dwarf women amongst his people. Kili and Fili both knew this. Being dwarf Princes, they had been told that when the time came dwarf maids would be selected for them so as to ensure the line of Durin. This had not been such a pleasant prospect, given what he had known and experienced of the maids of his own age in the Blue Mountains. He and Fili had had some…opportunities to experiment which they had most often laughed about later over mugs of malt beer. Their own mother, Dis, was a beauty, and this stayed in their minds as unspoken evidence that perhaps their hearts could be turned if they were to meet the right girl; perhaps amongst their distant kin in the Iron Hills. Another excellent reason to join Thorin’s Company. But in the meantime Kili had always been happiest amongst his male brethren roaming the roads of Middle Earth freely and satisfied with the camaraderie and adventure of male company.

But the first time he had seen Tauriel, her swords flashing and her body spinning as she dispatched four giant spiders before his eyes… a fellow warrior, but a beautiful one, just as reckless as he and just as in love with freedom as he. He does not see her as Elven. He sees her as kindred to himself. And in this moment beneath the stars by Long Lake, his body and heart pulse with a need for her that he must fight to contain.

He gently pushes her down and slides his arms under her, cradling her head as they explore each other’s mouths in trembling slowness. The feel of her warm skin against his is dizzying. He feels her writhing languidly beneath him and knows she feels as he does. Her hands tug at his hair and she gasps as his hand cups her breast and gently strokes at the nipple.

“Grung Vaen” he speaks into her ear, his voice deeply seated in the back of his throat.

“You must teach me more of the Dwarven tongue if I am to know these things you are telling me, Kili.”

“Ooooh, Tauriel…” he says, moving down to replace his hand with his warm mouth, “Grung Baraz. By heaven you shall know more of my tongue.”

Her back arches and her fingers dig into his shoulders. “Cormamin lindua ele lle.” She says, her fingers playing tenderly with his right ear tip.

He takes this as a positive response, and moves his mouth to her other nipple. Then, remembering something from a long ago adolescent experience with one of the more experienced dwarf maids, he lets his hand travel down and gently pushes her legs apart, letting it rest on her warm mound. He feels a tremor in her torso and looks anxiously at her eyes; has he done wrong?

No. She is smiling. Her grey eyes are sparkling at him.

He lowers his mouth to her rib cage and lets his teeth slide against her there, as his hand finds the warm throbbing place between her thighs and begins to explore, stroking slowly, relentlessly.

He remembers the maid who taught him this technique. She had not been pretty, but had been comfortable with herself, and patient and kindly to him. This was something, she had said, that most dwarf men did not do, that was a thing to save for a woman whom Kili truly wanted to please, a thing that went beyond simply fulfilling his duty to his family line. He also remembers speaking skeptically about it to Fili. Could there really be this one place on a woman’s body where such a small investment could elicit such a great reward? And could a maid really exist for whom a man could feel strongly enough to bother?

Tauriel’s response is so dramatic that all of Kili’s questions concerning the matter are answered.

He holds her against him as her body bucks in his arms and she cries out. Then she pushes hard at him and flips him onto his back, all of her shyness gone. He is almost panting now, his hands pulling at her hips, his heat having risen so much that he cannot even speak his need but can only emit a low, desperate growl. She straddles him and guides him into her. He barely has the ability to appreciate the stunning beauty of her body as she rides him. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he pushes up into her rhythmically. He feels her hands touching him, clutching at him with the same franticness as his own, her legs clamped tightly around him until he shudders and releases into her.

He does not realize until he has had a moment to catch his breath that his hands had clenched Tauriel’s hips so hard during his release that he had left bruises on her. He is horrified and begs her forgiveness, _Sorry, so sorry_ , but she smiles and takes his hands and says _no, no, I did not feel it, there is nothing to forgive_ , and kisses his palms as he pulls her face down to his and takes her lips again.

Neither of them realize as they fall into a deep sleep together under Tauriel’s Elven cloak, that Kili bears the marks of Tauriel’s passion on him as well, in the form of four evenly spaced scratch marks down his back that he had not even noticed as they happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwarvish:  
> Grung Vaen = my beautiful one  
> Grung Baraz = my promise  
> Elvish:  
> Cormamin lindua ele lle = my heart sings to thee
> 
> Again forgive my awkward Dwarvish and Elvish. As for the campiness, after the "trousers" line in DOS I figured I could write anything I wanted...
> 
> comments welcome!


	3. Misty Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More explorations from Tauriel's point of view

The morning sun is a pale half circle on the horizon, and can barely be seen through the mists that have risen from the Lake. Tauriel’s head lies in the crook of Kili’s shoulder, and her eyes open facing East into the Forest. He still sleeps soundly next to her as the mists flow over them, his chest rising and falling beneath her hand that is nestled there in his soft curls.

He is beautiful.

This is a revolutionary thought for her. She has lived through 600 years of training to see dwarves as brutish and shallow, as ill-tempered: as enemies. Kili defies all of this.

He almost looks childlike in sleep but Tauriel knows this is illusion. The man who touched her the night before was no child either in years or manner.

She moves her hand down his torso, pausing to caress the thick, rippling muscles of his abdomen. She has never sensed or felt so much strength before. Not in any elf male would she find such power. And yet in spite of this his skin is silken to the touch, and he had been so gentle with her. Except when he climaxed… but she had rather liked that. She feels a warm ache in her belly as she remembers it now, as she feels his large hand in the small of her back, his dwarf fingers incredibly strong but also nimble enough to carve arrows, loose bowstrings, … or tease an elf maid to ecstasy.

She did not get to explore his body the night before as he had hers, and the thought stirs a tingle in her legs. She moves her cheek against him, breathing him in as she continues to move her hand down him. She turns her hand over so the soft back of her fingers find and trace his shaft. He moans softly now, beginning to wake. His other hand reaches over, lightly touching her arm, then coming to rest on her head.

“That’s nice,” he murmurs.

She considers. What she is contemplating is something she always overheard the other Silvan females talk about, chitter about, as something demeaning, only done by the fallen, as a desperate means of reaching for some hollow status with the higher royal lineage of males, but at too great a cost. One’s Elven reputation can last a very long time, particularly in the claustrophobic, socially stagnant society of the Woodland Realm. She has never done it. Her status as Captain of the Guard was hard won and she would never do anything to tarnish it.

He grows smooth and rigid beneath her touch. She turns her head to look at him. He is gazing at her as though he had read her thoughts. Such warmth in his eyes. This is so new to her. Elves are not this generous. There are no status lines here.

He traces her jawline with one finger. “Vaen…” he whispers, smiling. He is not even asking. It makes it all the easier to give.

She traces her mouth down the center of him, nibbling gently, until she reaches him and takes him into her mouth, liking the taste of him immediately. He groans deeply, his hands caressing lines down her back, and then falling away to grasp the blankets, not wanting to bruise her again in his zeal.

But it is then that Tauriel feels a prickle of warning down her spine so strongly that in spite of the tenderness of the moment, she feels cold to her core. She stops, emerging from the Elven cloak, looking into the misty forest to the East.

Kili does not possess her Elven senses, and looks at her bewildered and somewhat forelorn. “Tauriel, what is it?”

She does not answer at first. She feels that something is coming towards them, and that there is great anger coming with it. She begins pulling on her boots.

“I am not sure,” she says, scanning the thick mist. She should have been wiser than this, putting them in such a vulnerable position at the edge of this evil wood. “Something comes this way,"

“Spiders?” Kili grabs his trousers.

They can both hear something breaking through the forest, headed right for them. Tauriel is on her feet and is in fighting stance with her knife and sword, having only had time to don her boots. Her long hair offers her some cover but her appearance stuns Kili. Taking up a position by her side with his own sword, he frowns piercingly in the direction of the oncoming intruder, prepared to meet death should anything threaten Tauriel.

“No…” answers Tauriel, whose face is nonetheless pale and looks more nervous than when Smaug had attacked the town. _Anger_ , she thinks, and _Heartbreak_.

In the next instant Legolas thunders into the clearing, his own sword drawn, his face a mask of rage and betrayal as he looks at his kinswoman and the dwarf who has bedded her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaen = beautiful
> 
> Didn't mean to have quite so much gratuitous smut in this but I'm not really planning it, just letting it happen.
> 
> comments welcome, as always!


	4. Elf rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there's been sex, now let's have some violence.

Tauriel is stunned, “Legolas !?”

Leagues from here he had felt them. His elf senses had seen them together and he had left his horse and companions and moved like one of the great stags through the woods, beating his rage and pain out through his body and feet on the earth as he weaved through the forest towards them. The mist was thick but he did not need his sight; he could feel their heat, their cursed happiness like a bright flame that drew him like a suicidal moth.

Now in these next moments Legolas sees what he had feared he would see. Tauriel, his childhood mate and now secret love of his inner heart, standing naked with the thrall of lovemaking still surrounding her,

_next to that dwarf!_

The dwarf who had had the insolence to stare at her through the bars of the cage in which his people had placed him. That dwarf who barely stood as high as her shoulder,

_who stood there now glaring at him!?_

_invading usurper, adolescent troublemaker with a sword drawn against him in his own forest, his pants barely drawn up to his hips dares draw a sword on an Elf Prince?_

He had claimed his Tauriel, placed his hands on her upon that snarl of blankets and velvet cushions that lay on the ground behind them,

_his damned dwarvish, mercenary, greedy and inferior hands on her beautiful body_

Her body that he was seeing now, uncovered before him for the first time in his long life, so perfect, slender but muscled, her rounded breasts winking out from behind her long silken red hair. She still crouches in her warrior stance out of habit, her eyes so wide and filled with emotion that he cannot discern what she feels, her body is turned slightly towards him so he can admire the lovely curve of her hip--

_is that a hand shaped bruise on her hip????!!!!_

Kili has watched Legolas’ face become darker and darker and now removes one of his hands from his sword hilt, spreading it towards Legolas in a hopeful gesture of conciliation…

This is a mistake.

Legolas launches himself at Kili with a deafening roar of rage and all of his thousand years of skill and strength. Kili brings his sword up just in time to parry a barrage of savage attacks from the Elf Prince who towers over him. Their swords clang loudly together at a hundred different angles, each one lethally aimed at Kili’s exposed neck and torso. Kili is strong and quick, but less experienced, and he is forced backwards as Legolas lunges at him in blind rage.

_“Utinu en lokirim!!!”_ roars legolas.

Kili has been backed up against a tree and Legolas is beating his sword down upon Kili’s upraised one as though hammering an anvil. Tauriel is horrified to see her oldest and dearest friend and her new love at each other’s throats, but Legolas’ anger is so great she cannot get near them and is shouting instead,

“Legolas, _N’ndengina ho_!! Legolas, he had my consent!!!” She tries to grab his sword arm.

“But he did not have mine!!!!” he turns and pushes Tauriel so hard that she is propelled a dozen feet away and rolls hard, her breath knocked out of her.

This enrages Kili, and he flies into a rage of his own, pushing away from the tree and slicing at Legolas with all of his strength and more speed than the elf has ever experienced from any dwarf he has fought. Legolas is momentarily distracted, and Kili manages to pin Legolas’ sword and his own between them, Kili’s right hand on the elf’s sword hilt, trying to force it out of Legolas’ grip. They are pressed hard together with their hands and blades between them. But Legolas is well armored and Kili’s chest is vulnerable to both blades in spite of his tough dwarf hide.

Legolas bends his head down to grind it against Kili’s as their battle of strength continues,

_“Amin feuya ten’ lle, Naugrim!!!”_ Legolas’ voice is a low sneer.

“ _Miz heus vel leibz vazran merag, Dekhel!!!!”_ Kili returns just as threateningly.

Tauriel has pulled her clothes on, and can only watch as the outraged males work through their issues.

They finally break loose from each other, Legolas’ sword torn from his hand by Kili’s sheer determination. Kili throws his own sword to the side, never breaking eye contact with Legolas, and flies barehanded at the elf with both arms forward, his dark mane of hair flying, his teeth bared. Legolas meets him halfway and they collide explosively.

They punch at each other with deadly intention, and grab for any vulnerable place. Legolas finds that landing blows on Kili’s head and face does not seem to make any impression on the dwarf at all. Kili bloodies his fists against Legolas chainmail and this also seems to do himself more harm than it does Legolas. The dwarf cannot quite reach Legolas’ face but his height puts him at an advantage to attack the elf’s leg and groin region, which he does, suddenly crouching low and driving his shoulder into Legolas’ legs, knocking them both the ground. They scrabble in the dirt, rolling, punching, and kicking at each other.

Legolas finally finds the bandage on Kili’s right leg and remembers the orc arrow, gripping it savagely.

Kili's throat releases a guttural scream of frustration and pain. In the moment of brief distraction Legolas’ long arm manages to grab Kili’s own sword that is nearby and brings it abruptly to Kili’s throat. Tauriel, who has been crouching with her own weapons ready, screams Kili’s name.

But suddenly a new voice speaks.

“That will do, Legolas.”

All three of them turn to find Celeborn and Galadriel seated on two white horses, with a third horse standing near them, saddled but riderless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elvish:  
> Utinu en lokirim = son of snakes  
> N’ndengina ho = don't kill him  
> Amin feuya ten’ lle, Naugrim = you disgust me, dwarf  
> dwarvish:  
> Miz heus vel leibz vazran merag, Dekhel = my blade and your face will be friends
> 
> Too much foreign speech here perhaps but I was having fun in the online dictionaries. I do wish it was kosher to just have them F bomb each other but that didn't seem right...  
> Please feel free to comment; not really sure where this will go next!


	5. Do we allow this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas has gone way off the deep end. Told from Galadriel's perspective.  
> Not sure how well executed this one is; really took some liberties with Legolas' character, elf traditions, fairy lore...  
> welcome any comments!

She is over 8000 years old. She has lived so long and is so filled with memory that she has become more ethereal than corporeal, more like the stars than the earth.

 _That one is of the earth_ , she thinks, taking in the young dwarf. _In fact he is covered in it._

Galadriel watches Celeborn dismount and walk towards the three young ones. They pulsate with raw emotion. She reads each of them easily, their thoughts and motivations as clear to her as the color in their eyes and faces.

She knows Legolas well, son of Thranduil. She has worried about him and the influence of his shortsighted and paranoid Father. His heart has been hurt. This might be good…or bad.

The Sylvan elf maid and the dark young dwarf are strongly linked. They love, and are unashamed.

Something stirs deep inside Galadriel that has not stirred in many hundreds of years. Legolas has lowered the blade he had held on the dwarf to turn and face Celeborn, and the dwarf scrambles to his feet, pulling his pants back up to his waist and fastening his belt. A small smile tugs at one corner of Galadriel’s mouth.

Legolas and Kili still glare at each other dangerously, both breathing hard. Legolas turns to Celeborn and Galadriel and kneels before them, his emotions still turbulent, his mind grasping narrowly towards what he wants without thought to consequences.

“I claim rights to this woman.”

Tauriel blanches and emits a strangled sob. Kili’s brow furrows.

Celeborn regards Legolas gravely. “A Prince may indeed claim rights to any elf woman he wishes, but are you certain this is a wise choice?”

“Yes.”

“ _NO_!” Kili shouts, looking from Tauriel, to Legolas, and then to Celeborn.

Several of the knights of Lothlorien have arrived on horses behind Galadriel and are dismounting, moving around the group to support Celeborn. Legolas steps towards Tauriel, who recoils from him. Kili flies forward to intercede and is caught by two large elves. They can barely hold onto him as he struggles fiercely, screaming protestations and curses in dwarvish.

Legolas grasps Tauriel by the arm and pulls her with him towards his horse. The look she gives him could only come from one who is facing the betrayal of 600 years of absolute trust.

“ _You cannot allow this!!!”_ Kili screams at Celeborn in supplication, “ _Do Tauriel’s wishes mean nothing? Can you not see she does not want this?!!!”_

A look passes between the two ancients. Celeborn’s thoughts whisper in Galadriel’s mind,

_Do we allow this?_

She looks at Legolas, who is still dragging Tauriel towards his horse in spite of her look of pure hatred that he does not seem to see. Galadriel closes her eyes, speaking to Celeborn's mind.

_This may be precisely the lesson the Young Woodland Prince needs. Let them be. I will take care of the dwarf._

Celeborn nods, and leaves the clearing to mount his own horse. Galadriel dismounts and approaches Kili, who is still struggling and shouting as he watches Tauriel being taken away. He barely notices as Galadriel approaches him. Her hands make a slight motion and she incants something very softly.

_“Templa en’ tessa.”_

Kili’s eyes roll backwards and he goes limp between the two elf knights. She gestures for them to follow her, and they drag Kili with them as she walks away into the woods.

*** ********************************

Much of Galadriel’s mind is occupied with the threat of Sauron, and the White Counsel that has gone into Mirkwood to drive him Southward. Part of her awareness is there, with her dear Mithrandir, watching, listening. Part of her mind also feels the dark hoard of orcs and goblins that march through Mirkwood Northwards towards the pull of the dead dragon’s treasure…and yet another part of her awareness scans the Lonely Mountain, sensing Thorin’s slow fall into insanity…

The young dwarf who lies face down in the grass next to her begins to occupy more of her mind than she is used to devoting to immediate things. Her fingers touch the soft tangles of black hair on his head, then trace his jawline. He has his Uncle’s bearing, but his spirit is much brighter than Thorin’s. He is covered with a fine layer of dirt from his fight with Legolas, but as she passes her hand down his muscular back she can still make out four parallel marks. One of her eyebrows rises as she realizes these scratches were not made in anger.

This young one, like most other Middle Earthers she encounters, is still trapped inside himself and the needs of his beating heart and impetuous mind. Love, betrayal, rage and pain. She and Celeborn can only feel these things like butterfly wings against their senses. Their view is broader, their bodies older, more disciplined…

Or is she the one who is trapped? Sometimes she feels almost transparent, as though the sunlight might pass right through her, as though she might soon disappear…

Her hand strokes Kili’s arm from his shoulder until she reaches his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. She closes her eyes, lifting her other hand, her fingers seeming to vibrate through the air as if it were suddenly made of water. In a perfect circle around them, a line of mushrooms emerges from the ground, pushing their way up through the soil and grass blades like newborn babes, their caps opening like small parasols.

 _“Lema ed’ templa_.” She whispers.


	6. Enthralled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naughty, wicked Galadriel.

_He feels warm._

_All around him is warmth. Water. He is immersed in warm water that flows around him and tingles against his skin. She is here. Her hands stroke his shoulders, his arms, his chest. He can smell cornflowers, jasmine, poppies…_

_He opens his eyes and She is there. Her brilliant blue eyes captivate him as they have always done, her smile charming him and stabbing at his heart like a dagger. He has galloped across beaches of white sand with her, on stallions whose high spirits had nearly thrown them to the crashing waves of the ocean, under skies of pewter blue strewn with clouds that shone with pure primordial magic…_

_But mortal horses could not throw them. They were the masters, the favorite children of the Valar, and he was Her favorite and She was His._

_His hands find her beautiful thighs and he pulls her to him, his mouth seeking hers hungrily. His tongue licks her lips, seeks the warm inside of her mouth, his hand pulling her head to him so he can feel her lips pressing hard against his as She devours him and he devours Her._

_Her long blonde hair flows around him in the water. His hands seek Her waist, stroke Her back, and finally both come to find her breasts as they continue to explore each other’s mouths. She hardens against his palms and he pinches her gently between his fingers, shivering as She moans, relishing that he is succeeding in pleasing Her._

_His hands move to Her waist and he lifts her easily into his arms, carrying her away from the water and onto the soft grassy bank. It is nicer than the beach, where for all its beauty the sand was coarse and seemed to stick to every part of them. He pulls Her legs apart and seeks Her delicious folds, the mineral taste from the water mixing with the rich flavor of Her. Hi tongue draws loving circles around Her throbbing place, and She gasps and clamps Her legs against his shoulders as his hands paw at Her stomach, plucking at her breasts like delicate harp strings._

_When he finally enters her he moves slowly, deliberately. He knows She likes it when he does this. He rolls against her like the thunder that surprised them that day, when the horses had bolted and they had laughed, having no cover to run to but letting the rain come down on them. It had been warm anyway, and had washed them clean, and the lightening had lit up the sky as though in celebration of their rebellious tryst. He is laughing now, and so is She, the most beautiful laugh he has ever known._

_***_

He lies in her arms now, his eyes half lidded, still gazing at her, half a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. She keeps her hands moving on him, knowing the thrall will last as long as she does this. She finally draws her hand across his face, whispering a sleeping spell. His eyes close.

She nestles her forehead against his for one last moment.

“ _Poikaer.”_ She says, and closes her eyes. “I had forgotten. I will not forget again.”

***

It is Fili who finds him.

It had been a week since Fili, Bofur and Oin had seen Kili last, and they had become desperately worried. The last place Fili had remembered seeing his brother was by the Master’s boathouse working on arrows. They had discovered the other boat missing, and traced it to the shore, found Kili’s sword there in the dirt amidst signs of a struggle. There was no sign of Tauriel either. Oin was convinced the elf lass had bewitched Kili. Fili worries he may be right. The boot and hoof prints look Elvish to him and then there is that ominous fairy ring…

Then suddenly as Fili is scanning the horizon of the Lake for the hundredth time from the main dock of Laketown, he sees a form walking on the bridge to the Mainland.

Fili runs along the Bridge, relieved to recognize Kili walking towards him, his bow and quiver of arrows over one shoulder, apparently unharmed. In fact Kili is walking without any limp at all.

“Kili!” yells Fili, reaching his brother and grasping him by the shoulders in relief. “Are you all right?”

Kili looks at Fili, blinking for a moment, then brightening, “Fili! It’s you!”

“Yes, it’s me you idiot! Where have been? We’ve all been worried sick.”

Kili’s expression becomes confounded, his brows furrowing. “I…can’t remember.”

“What do you mean you can’t remember?” Fili tries to sound jocular but he grows worried. “What is the last thing you DO remember?”

Kili frowns, a series of half remembered images seeming to flit past his eyes, until they suddenly spring wide open and he shouts “Tauriel!”

“Tauriel? What about her?”

“Did she return? Has she come back here?!”

“Why, was she with you? What happened?”

“They took her!!”

“Who took her??”

“Legolas!” Kili’s voice becomes uncharacteristically savage from the remembered outrage. “They came, a group of elves on the shore, they took her away against her will! There were two who had the look of ancient ones, a man and a woman. They both had long blonde hair….”

Fili stares at Kili, almost more worried now than he was when he couldn’t find him. “Not Thranduil?”

“No…” says Kili “not Wood Elves, or from Rivendell either.”

“From Lothlorien, then.” Says Fili more to himself, thinking of stories he remembered about an Elf Witch that lived in that forest, and keeping it to himself.

But Kili is fixated on Tauriel, “She didn’t want to go with him. He had to drag her. Fili,” Kili’s face wears a look Fili has never seen on it before,

“If he has hurt her I will kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poikaer = pure one
> 
> This story began as light smut but it is becoming something else. Part two of this series is shaping up much darker than part one.   
> Thank you so much for reading this far.   
>  I hope you may be curious about what comes next in part two. It is proving difficult to write but somehow this type of struggle has its rewards.


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